Outlaw Princess of Sherwood by Nancy Springer Read Free Book Online

alone—”
    â€œShhh!” Etty had seen the page boy’s dark eyes widen. “Idiot, now he knows who I am.”
    â€œAs if they don’t all know—”
    Rook interrupted. “Hush. Bind him. We must take him, too, or he’ll betray us.”
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    Why, Etty wondered, should binding and gagging two prisoners take three times as long? But it seemed to. In fact it seemed to take forever. Rook had to sit on King Solon’s legs and finish tying his hands while he squirmed and grunted muffled threats from under Etty’s grip, while Lionel kept his hold on the page boy. Then Rook had to pull back the blankets and tie the king’s feet. Any other time Etty would have giggled at the sight of her oh-so-dignified father in his smallclothes, but now she could think only of the passing of time. “Hurry!” she whispered as Rook went to get the gag from Lionel.
    â€œShhh.”
    Finally it was done. Etty’s father lay mute and furious, gagged and bound hand and foot, as Etty scrambled to help Rook and Lionel with the page boy. Hastily they bound his hands with the cross-garters from Lionel’s leggings. Even more hastily they gagged him with the same. With small ceremony Lionel slung King Solon of Auberon over his shoulder and bolted, ducking out the back door he had cut in the pavilion. Hustling the page boy between them, each with a hand under one of his arms, Etty and Rook followed.
    Dark, too dark. After candlelight, nothing but blackness out there. No time to let the eyes adjust. Etty could see nothing. The twenty paces to the cover of the forest seemed to take a year. Straining her ears, Etty could hear nothing but the roaring of her own pulse. Where were the guards? Still playing with Tykell? Or—
    â€œHalt!” roared a man’s voice close at hand. “Who goes there?”
    That challenge pierced Etty like an arrow. Heart pounding, she ducked behind the first big oak at the edge of the forest, hauling Rook and the page boy with her. Too much time had passed, the diversion had ceased to divert, and now the guard would sound the alarm, Robin and his men would have to come to the rescue, there would be blood—
    The guard bellowed, “Answer, or I shoot!”
    Etty sensed more than saw that her captive gave a twisting motion of his head. She jumped like a squirrel when his voice sounded, piping loud and peevish, from right beside her.
    â€œ Mon foi , porridge-face,” he cried, “it is I, Beauregard du Fleur Noir. What mean you, bête gross odieux , to shout at me? You’ll wake the king.”
    Feeling a trifle dizzy, Etty leaned against the oak.
    â€œYoung master? What are you doing out here?” The guard lowered his voice, but Etty could hear him walking nearer. And she could hear other voices and footsteps approaching, more guards joining the first. Biting her lip, she reached for the dagger in her belt.
    The page boy retorted, “Radish-head, what you think? I sniff the night breezes, non ?”
    â€œThe latrines are beyond the tents—”
    â€œPah!” The page boy’s voice became imperious. “You think I take my breeches down for the common filth holes? Go milk yourself. I tell the king—”
    â€œAs you will, Master Beauregard. I beg your pardon.” The guard retreated, taking the others with him.
    Etty breathed out.
    She listened to the footsteps and voices fading away. For about ten heartbeats there was blessed, utter silence. Then, from somewhere close at hand in the darkness, Lionel whispered, “Who tied that gag on him?”
    Keeping his voice very soft now, the page boy himself answered. “The princess Ettarde. I think she desire not to hurt me, oui ?”
    â€œ Oui ,” Etty agreed. “I mean, yes.”
    She felt him press something into her hands in the darkness—the strips of cloth that had bound him. He had slipped right out of them. “I come with you,”